


In Love When You Wake Me Up

by BethXP



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, enjolras has an operation, i guess, under the influence of anaesthetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethXP/pseuds/BethXP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Enjolras wakes up from an operation he is still under the influence of the anaesthetic and ends up revealing more than he intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Love When You Wake Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> There was a news story about a guy waking up after an operation and not recognising his wife but saying she was beautiful and it got me wondering what would happen if exR was in that situation. I was tempted to do an established relationship one, maybe I still will, but I can't help myself with little fluffy declarations of love like this. 
> 
> Title from Ed Sheeran song.

As Enjolras’ eyes flickered open, the three friends in the room simultaneously shifted closer to get a better look at him. The group of fourteen had agreed amongst themselves who would get to visit Enjolras after his operation, because there was a limit to the number of visitors allowed in the ward. Combeferre was a given, being Enjolras’ next of kin and best friend. Courfeyrac was the second person chosen, although no one was quite sure how he had managed to get everyone to agree to it. When it was asked who should be the third, Grantaire had simply said “me.” The tone in which it was delivered left no room for negotiation. 

The light must have been too bright for Enjolras, for he scrunched up his eyes before trying to open them again. For some time they were glazed over and unfocused, but after a few more blinks they came to settle on the nearest living form in the room. Combeferre. 

“Wakey wakey,” he said gently, giving the dozy Enjolras a soft smile. Enjolras’ innocent expression told him he was still not quite with it. “You’ve just come out of an operation,” he explained. “Try and rest,” he added as Enjolras tried to sit up. A hand on the shoulder was enough to keep him down and he did not have the strength to fight for long. When Enjolras could see he would not win the battle, he laid back and scrutinised Combeferre’s face.

“Who are you?” His voice was raspy and dry, missing it’s usual certainty and dominance.

“I’m Combeferre, your friend, remember?” There was no concern in his voice, just gentle encouragement. The doctor had told them that it was likely Enjolras would not be fully with it when he regained consciousness and to be patient with him. 

“You better not have forgotten who I am,” said the person standing behind Combeferre, looking far too happy to be in a hospital. If his outlandish purple velvet jacket and bright pink skinny jeans we anything to go by, this guy was anything but normal, Enjolras thought to himself. 

“It’s Courfeyrac!” exclaimed Courfeyrac in answer to Enjolras’ puzzled looks. He let out a gasp and put his hand to his heart like he was hurt that Enjolras could forget him. For a moment Enjolras was worried that he had upset him, but then Courfeyrac shot him a wide smile that said he was only teasing and Enjolras gives a sigh of relief. He replied with a weak smile of his own. 

“I… I feel like I should know you,” he said, frowning. But no matter how hard he tried he could not place them. They weren't complete strangers to him, he was sure of that, but if you were to ask him to describe their personalities, Enjolras would not have been able to. The best he could do was describe the feelings he got from them. This 'Combeferre' made him feel safe and 'Courfeyrac' made him want to roll his eyes and sigh, like he shouldn’t expect anything less from him. But the more he tried to dig for memories, the more his head hurt. He winced and just accepted that these people knew him. 

It was then that Enjolras became aware that there was a slight pressure on his right hand. He looked down at it and saw that there was a hand that did not belong to him grasping it tightly. Enjolras followed the direction in which the hand was coming from until he came across the face of it’s owner. It was another man, roughly the same age as his other so called friends and sitting in a chair beside Enjolras’ bed. He was closer than his other friends, who were situated at the end of his bed on the plastic chairs provided by the hospital. He was hunched over the bed so that his dark curls flopped over his piercing blue eyes, which were fixed unmovingly on Enjolras’ face. His jaw was clenched tightly shut and he was deathly pale. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. 

“And you are…?” he asked the third and final face in the room.

“No one important,” he replied, “just focus on waking up.” 

Grantaire was tired, he _hadn’t_ slept for days. He hadn’t slept the night before the operation and he hadn’t slept since. He couldn’t. Not until he knew Enjolras was alright. He would have been fine, but when the doctor came out of the operating theatre to explain how there had been “complications” and how they had to put Enjolras under the anaesthetic for longer than originally planned, he had almost been sick with worry. He had refused to leave Enjolras’ side from the moment he got there, much to the doctor’s dismay. Courfeyrac once had to physically remove Grantaire from one nurse's personal space when she tried to get between Grantaire and the sleeping Enjolras to take his blood pressure.

Enjolras frowned, not approving or comprehending the answer. 

“No, that can’t be right,” he said seriously. “You must be important, I can feel it. You’re special to me.” He nodded as he spoke as if to confirm what he was saying.

It was then that this ‘unimportant person’ appeared to be aware that he had been clutching on to Enjolras’ hand, for he attempted to pull away his own hand, but Enjolras grabbed it before he had the chance. 

“No, don’t. It feels… nice.”

Enjolras couldn’t really explain it. He was certain that if it had been Combeferre that was holding his hand, he wouldn’t have felt the same as he did now. The hand was warm, comforting, safe, like everything was going to be okay now. Yes, Combeferre had a safe air about him, but safe as in trustworthy. This dark haired stranger gave Enjolras a strength he didn’t know he had. The thought of letting that go made him incredibly sad. 

Grantaire studied Enjolras' face for some time before leaning forward again, taking hold of his hand with much more courage than he had before. Enjolras smiled. 

“I think,” he went on to say, inspecting the third friend like he couldn’t quite fathom him, “that you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my life.”

Grantaire, who had been leaning his elbows on the bed, slipped and almost fell out of his chair. One of the other visitors, probably Courfeyrac, Enjolras’ brain supplied, let out a choking noise.

"W-what?" 

“You do realise you are talking about Grantaire don’t you?” asked Courfeyrac. 

“Grantaire? I like that name,” Enjolras said in that simplistic way a child speaks like the world is black and white, and not answering Courfeyrac’s question. The name Grantaire felt familiar. It sent a tingling down his spine and for some reason unknown to him he wanted to smile again.

“You’re still under the influence of the anaesthetic,” Combeferre said gently, but Enjolras ignored him. He wanted to talk to Grantaire. 

“Come here,” he said, beckoning Grantaire to come closer. Grantaire shot Combeferre a look which was responded with a shrug. Slightly unsure, Grantaire shifted forward so that he perched on the end of his seat, as close to Enjolras as he could comfortably be. Not that he looked very comfortable. 

Enjolras reached out and touched Grantaire’s cheek. Grantaire’s eyes bulged and it made Enjolras smirk.

“I like your hair,” he said dreamily, brushing an errant curl out of Grantaire’s eyes. 

“Oh my god I cannot believe this,” Courfeyrac exclaimed, dying of laughter. “I have to film this.” He extracted a phone from the pocket of his skinny jeans and began to record the conversation. Enjolras didn’t understand what was so funny or why Combeferre felt the need to tell Courfeyrac he was being cruel. Grantaire was completely frozen under Enjolras’ touch and Enjolras had almost forgotten his hand was still cupping his cheek. But then Grantaire had managed to blurt out, “I hate you Courfeyrac,” and Enjolras remembered what he was doing.

“Don’t worry my dear I will send you a copy of the video,” Courfeyrac sang, “along with everybody else.”

Enjolras felt the urge to give Courfeyrac a disapproving look.

“Oop, looks like Enjolras is beginning to return to us,” was Courfeyrac’s reply. The glare did not deter him from filming this not-all-there Enjolras. Combeferre chuckled. Enjolras went back to looking at Grantaire’s face, he felt drawn to it somehow. Grantaire was still close as Enjolras had not pushed him away and he was incapable of moving himself. Enjolras was still holding Grantaire’s face in one hand and his hand in the other.

“You have lovely eyes,” Enjolras continued, talking as he complemented Grantaire’s hair and face and eyes every day. “And lips. You have very nice lips. Kissable. Can I kiss them? I should like to.” Grantaire went a dark shade of red and Enjolras thought he looked adorable. Courfeyrac had gone past the laughing stage and was now into full on wheezing.

“I can’t,” he said between shaky breaths. “Here ‘Ferre you’re going to have to do it.” He gave Combeferre the camera phone and then doubled over on himself, clutching his chest. 

“Do you remember anything about Grantaire?” Combeferre asked with an amused smile, adjusting the phone’s position to ensure he was recording everything. 

Enjolras’ eyes narrow as he considered the question. He addressed Grantaire as he answered the question despite him not being the person who asked it.

“Paint,” he said like that was a reasonable answer. “I think of you and the smell of paint comes to mind. I can’t remember your laugh but I know I like it. I like to make you laugh.” He frowned. “Do… do we argue a lot?”

“I’d like to think of it as a difference in opinion,” Grantaire said with a half-smile, still blushing from ear to ear. Enjolras grinned. 

“You’re funny.” Something appeared to click in his mind because he let out a little ‘oh’ and then said, “are you my boyfriend? Because you are funny and pretty and I want to kiss you. My heart is beating really fast because of you, I know it. Feel!" He took the hand he was holding of Grantaire's and pressed it to his chest. Sure enough his heart was beating erratically. "You should be my boyfriend,” he said finally like it was perfectly logical.

Grantaire stared at Enjolras with his mouth wide open, unable to form any kind of sentence, let alone a reply that he wouldn’t regret later. He so badly wanted to tell Enjolras that his heart was beating just as fast and that _yes_ he'd give anything to be his boyfriend. But of course it was not Enjolras that was speaking, it was this high-on-anaesthetic Enjolras that did not know what he was saying, let alone mean any of it. So he decided to say nothing.

Courfeyrac, who had just about managed to control himself, lost it again and started to punch Combeferre on the arm to express just how much this was killing him.

“I’m tired,” Enjolras said suddenly, finally releasing Grantaire from his hold on him and turning to look at Combeferre. 

“Get some rest,” Combeferre told him in the sort of fatherly way that was comforting to Enjolras. He shut his eyes and nuzzled into the pillow. But a second later his eyes snapped open again and he searched for Grantaire in the faces of his audience. 

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” he asked, vulnerable and childlike. 

“I’ll be right here for as long as you need me,” Grantaire replied softly. Enjolras stretched out his hand and Grantaire took it. Grantaire allowed himself the indulgence of stroking Enjolras’ forehead. Enjolras leaned into the touch and shut his eyes once more. Grantaire flashed Courfeyrac a look. “Shut up.”

The second time Enjolras woke up, it took the first thing he said to know he was no longer under the influence of the anaesthetic. He had been asleep for quite a while and his friends had turned to entertaining themselves with their phones, or dropping off to sleep in Combeferre’s case.

“You better not look this miserable at my funeral.”

“He’s back!” Courfeyrac threw his arms up in the air in a celebratory cheer. Combeferre stirred and gave Enjolras a sleepy smile. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pushing his glasses back up his nose with his index finger.

“Sore.” He tried to sit up and this time Combeferre allowed it, helping him by adjusting the pillows and blankets. Enjolras thanked him begrudgingly. He did not like being treated like an invalid. But he knew Combeferre was only trying to help and he knew he would not be able to look after himself for the next few days so he held his tongue. 

Courfeyrac was grinning wildly, probably reading his mind and enjoying watching Enjolras suffer. You’d think he’d never had a bad day in his life, thought Enjolras. He felt a pang of jealousy as Courfeyrac was able to move of his own accord whilst he had to lean on Combeferre just to shift backwards on the bed a bit.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught Enjolras’ attention and he turned to see Grantaire shifting in his seat. Grantaire gave him a pained smile, wincing as Enjolras winced when he leant further than his stitches would allow, and Enjolras felt an aching in his chest. Grantaire had thrust his hands into the pockets of the green hoodie he was wearing and something about that felt wrong to Enjolras. He felt like he was missing something and that Grantaire was the cause of it. He ran his fingers through his hair and told himself he was being stupid. 

“I assume everything went okay?” Enjolras said as he felt under his hospital gown to where the bandages on his skin were.

“There were some complications but they sorted it, the doctor can explain when he sees you but everything is fine.”

Enjolras nodded, if Combeferre said everything was fine then he believed him. He knew better than to hold things back from Enjolras. 

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Two hours and then another hour before you woke up the first time,” replied Courfeyrac.

“What do you mean woke up the first time?”

“You don’t remember?” asked Grantaire quietly. Enjolras shook his head but then stopped abruptly because it made him feel queasy. “Probably for the best,” Grantaire muttered as he deflated into his chair.

“Why? What happened?” Enjolras couldn’t help but shake the feeling he had missed something important. The terrifying expression on Courfeyrac’s face told him he definitely had. 

“Well,” Courfeyrac started but Grantaire cut him off.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Don’t you dare what? What happened?” Enjolras looked between Grantaire and Courfeyrac and waited for one of them to cave.

“I can show you if you’re interested?” Courfeyrac extracted his phone and waved it in the air. Without warning, Grantaire tackled him to the ground and they began to wrestle for the mobile. “Grantaire, what the f-” Courfeyrac screamed as Grantaire lunged for the phone. But Courfeyrac was too quick for him and had rolled onto his side and got to his feet before Grantaire knew what was happening. Courfeyrac chucked his phone at Enjolras, who thankfully had good reflexes and caught it despite not being given a warning. “You can’t tackle the invalid,” Courfeyrac said to Grantaire, who glared at him all red in the face. “Go to my videos,” Courfeyrac instructed Enjolras, “and watch the most recent one.”

Enjolras frowned, catching sight of Grantaire’s terrified and pleading expression, before hitting play.

Enjolras, who was fairly fresh faced when he had woken up, turned pale as he watched himself on that small screen. When the video came to an end he turned excruciatingly slowly to Grantaire, his mouth dropped wide open. Grantaire looked bright red and sheepish. 

“I… er…” He couldn’t form the sentences he wanted to.

“It’s okay,” Grantaire said quickly, gesturing with his hands, “it was the anaesthetic talking. You didn’t know what you were saying. I know none of that was true, you don’t have to worry yourself.” They both looked away from each other shy and embarrassed. There was a beat of awkward silence and then Enjolras spoke. 

“Not all of it.” Grantaire looked up. Enjolras was fidgeting with the hem of the blanket and refusing to look him in the eye. For a moment Grantaire thought he had been mistaken and Enjolras hadn’t said anything at all. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”

“Well I thought I made it pretty obvious when the filter from my brain to my mouth was temporarily not working. You are the most important person in my life and you do have the most beautiful eyes and I love your laugh and the way you-”

Enjolras should not have been surprised when Grantaire cut him off mid-speech to kiss him. He had practically thrown himself at him the moment his brain had processed the words that were coming out of Enjolras’ mouth. The surprise made Enjolras jump and Grantaire retracted almost immediately. Enjolras to let out a small whimper that set Courfeyrac off laughing again. 

“Oh god I didn’t hurt you did I? That was so stupid, god I’m so sorry” he gushed as he checked Enjolras all over to make sure he hadn’t hurt him. Lunging at someone who had just had an operation was not one of his smartest moves to date. 

Enjolras for once in his life decided actions spoke louder than words. He took hold of Grantaire by the scruff of his neck and crashed their lips together like it was an insult that they were apart. This time Grantaire made no objections and they were all over each other in seconds. 

“Save the hospital sex for when we aren’t here,” said Courfeyrac, completely undisturbed by the truly obscene sights that were unfolding in front of his eyes. 

Grantaire and Enjolras didn’t bother to stop kissing as they both flipped their friend off at the same time.


End file.
